Chapter Seventeen
Adair
They were gathered in the courtyard, the morning light spilling onto the pale stones. Nei clutched Roque’s arm, unaware that Adair inhibited her husband’s body. Emory sat beside her, still, her flawless skin pale against the promise of the new day. Her gaze flickered amongst the crowd, searching.
Silent tears ran down Nei’s face as Adair stood looking out at the transformed courtyard. Rows of long benches had been set out; black roses trailed along the backs of them. At the back of the courtyard, a podium waited framed by the archway. Behind it, the rolling hills splayed until it met the forest’s edge in the distance.
The Academy watched his every move. Students, teachers, all were completely unaware that Adair was still adjusting to Roque’s body, his own resting in the hidden tunnels of the Academy. His disguise was impeccable. A predator amongst the grieving sea.
Walking, the students and teachers of the Academy were a sea of black clothing and sniffling tears. Feeling their eyes burning into his back, Adair came to the podium, a torch flickering and waiting for him, a small fire pit to his left.
Lowering the torch, the fire was lit, the smoldering flames crackling a deep indigo. Adair looked to his right, spotting Tadeas and Marquis talking quietly amongst themselves. Adair’s heart lurched painfully at the sight of the young prince. He wanted to yell at Marquis to leave, to make sure he was spared and not caught in the crossfire of Adair’s plan. His mind scrambled, the whispers pressing heavily against his consciousness.
“You are wasting time.”
Adair raised his gaze, sweeping over the crowd, curling his hands into fists.
“Destroy them, and all your desires will be fulfilled.”
Gulping, the voices hissed at the edges of his mind, snapping and clawing at him. The wind tussled his hair lightly, a crispness clinging in the air.
Adair bowed his head, his low voice rumbling as Adair spoke with Roque’s voice, “Today, we mourn a great loss for our school. The students, teachers, warriors from the Shattered Isles fought valiantly against dark forces our country has not seen before. The capital has fallen, and we are spinning into times tinged with darkness. Yet we stand unified and take today to celebrate the lives of our loved ones, our friends, and our colleagues. For they will live on within our memories and will never be forgotten.”
Tears spilled down the faces of most students, the faculty sitting rigid, grief paining their faces. The flames roared behind Adair as a hush fell over the crowd once more. Pulling out the crisp parchment, he cleared his throat. “We remember today, Professor Iasan, Professor Ida, Collin Greenbay, Aedian McMulian...”
The list went on, and Adair read through each inky name scrolled in Nei’s fine print. Each word, each beat felt like ash in his mouth. Finally, reaching the last name, he turned, gently placing the parchment in the flames, the paper instantly dissolving.
He watched for a moment, entranced as the ink bubbled and peeled, fading into the coals and smoke. The scraping of chairs slammed him back into the present, and Adair boomed, “Now, let us reconvene in the dining hall and pay our respects.”
Murmurs spread amongst them, some people lingering by the flames, whispering their goodbyes.
Adair quickly caught Tadeas’s eye, the king making his way toward him. Chewing his inner cheek, he dipped his head. “Tadeas.”
“Roque. You spoke well. I am grateful for that, for our fallen from the Isles.”
Marquis followed them; his eyes cast down as they headed toward the Academy. Tadeas eyed the crowd. “You can rest assured that your secret is safe with me during this uneasy time.”
His voice was quiet, and Adair raised a dark eyebrow, feigning innocence. “It will remain safe. I swear that to you. But Marquis and I will be returning to the Isles. You will always have aid with us, but we need to recuperate after our losses. With my entire fleet, we can bring Cesan down.” He cleared his voice gruffly, stalling to clasp his forearm.
“I will have your passage readied at the port. Go back to the Isles and let our allegiance be known. Your trading routes are free, all I ask, King, is to not leave Kiero in the dark. Go home. Grieve your losses. We will be in contact soon.”
Tadeas bowed. “What about Cesan?”
At the mention of his father’s name, Adair darkened, his ability throttling Roque within his dark rage. “I will deal with Cesan and make him answer for what he has done.”
Marquis stalled behind his father, his eyes narrowing, and for a moment, Adair thought he saw a flash of recognition in those emerald eyes. Just as fast as it had occurred, it vanished, and Tadeas looked to his son. “Well, we will take our leave after some of the feast then.”
“I will have your horses prepared for your journey,” Adair—Roque—said.
Nodding, they walked back into Academy, the sun rising higher in the sky, the smoke curling up to meet it.
***
Delicious scents churned through the air: honey and dates, sweet tangs of the freshly baked fruit and nut bread, the spices of mulled wine. Adair sat back at the head of the table, taking in the dining hall. Nei had outdone herself.
Deep green vines churned along the edge of each headboard of each seat, deep blue blossoms flowering as the chatter rose. The intricate petals curled, flecks of silver catching in the shades. Shimmering above them, a haze of golden mist recreated the look of a sunset twinkling above crystal water. It was flawless, every color deep and rich, as they dove into the celebration planned to last well into the afternoon and night.
Chewing on the soft warm bread, Adair sighed, his gaze briefly drifting above, a small crack barely visible where his true body lay.
“Dad, can I talk to you for a second?”
Startled, he turned to face Emory and cleared his throat gruffly, his heart hammering and his mind scrambling. Would she detect the shadows churning within his eyes?
“Brokk, Memphis, and Adair are all missing. Adair and I...we got into a bad fight last night, and he was heading to talk to you. What happened?”
What happened, indeed? Adair thought.
“Emory, I wouldn’t be too worried. Adair is feeling a bit...lost. He just came to me seeking counsel last night... When was the last time you saw Brokk and Memphis?”
She chewed her lip, whispering, “At least a day ago.”
His mind spun. Foster and Carter had a bad habit of keeping tabs on him. If they were digging, then they would be following his same path for answers about what exactly the Academy was hiding.
Gently smiling at Emory, he said, “I will make sure to find them.”
They were already too late for what they were searching for.
She beamed. “Thank you.”
“Emory?” Adair snapped his attention at the sound of Marquis’s voice.
Marquis stood behind them, his emerald hair disheveled, his hands buried in the pockets of his ebony jacket. At the far side of the hall, chairs and tables were screeching back, the pounding of drums beating through the crowd as people gathered.
They had started the Kedshima, a traditional respect paid at funerals. It was the dance of abilities. Emory looked at the young prince, tilting her head. “Marquis?”
“Would you...erm...I mean would you do me the honor of being my partner?”
Her gaze also trailed to the siren call of the pounding drums, of the partners gathering and standing across the room from one another. With a dark spark in her eyes, she dipped her head. “It would be my pleasure.”
Adair sat back, watching as Emory followed Marquis through the throng of people, the drums picking up speed, pounding in double time. Taking a deep swig, the taste of crisp berries and taunting spices filled his senses. The world seemed to slow as Marquis bowed low, Emory returning the gesture, and then they walked to opposite sides of the room.
Nei grabbed his hand, squeezing gently. “With those two, it ought to be a show.”
The drums stilled, and then Adair recognized Wyatt, as he roar
ed, “Let the Kedshima begin!!”
Beautiful chaos ensued.
The drums picked up in an alluring tempo as abilities exploded. Adair watched as the hall was transformed. To the far left, a young student ran toward her partner, dodging the fire that flared and roared from his palms, dropping to her knees as leafy vines exploded from her, meeting the flames, becoming an entanglement of ash that exploded around them. To the right, Wyatt and Jaxson gravitated around each other, grinning wolfishly as Wyatt disappeared and reappeared, Jaxson multiplying himself by the minute.
Fire met ice, ice met ash, and stars erupted from the clash of might that shuddered through the room. Adair’s pulse thrummed as he watched, entranced, yet unable to do anything when Emory became the predator she was born to be before his very eyes.
Her dark hair was swept back, and she walked toward Marquis, a slight smile splayed on the corner of her lips. He tilted his hand, mischief etched into his features. He clapped his hands together, and it was like they were transported to the heart of the Black Sea. Thunder rolled as the wind picked up, and water crashed toward Emory, black and churning, with one promise - to consume.
Running full tilt, Emory aimed straight for the middle of the mighty waters spouting from Marquis’s palms. Adair saw her plan unfold, but he also knew Marquis’s secret and his advantage. Emory was hoping to reach the prince through the waters because once she had contact with him, the game was over.
She had no idea she was running straight into a giant shield.
Emptying his glass, he stood, hearing Nei’s distant questions fade behind him.
The other partners had stepped to the sidelines, the drums continuing to pound, rattling their souls. They all watched as the contained waters from the Prince of the Shattered Isles roared toward their princess, both parties emitting a calm confidence, each thinking they had the upper hand. Adair watched Emory succumb to the waters, crashing into them and submerging herself. Her arms were powerful as she swam, cutting through the water, only to find herself trapped in a massive roaring orb. Her brows furrowed, confused at the sudden wall she was met with.
Marquis smiled, whispering, “Game over, Princess.”
Dropping his hands, the orb stopped, crashing Emory to the ground in a sputtering mess. Claps and roars of approval pounded through the room, as Marquis mock bowed. Emory looking half-drowned, laughed while still lying on the ground. Her clear voice cut right through his heart.
Adair stopped, exhaling hard, not realizing he had been holding his breath. The room filled with chatter, with laughter, with light and love. He could feel Nei’s gaze burning into his back, and he was about to turn slowly when he heard it.
The room seemed to dim, everyone fading to the background. The boisterous and alluring scents and glamor of the party swept from his mind.
“Adair. Adaiiiir. They are coming.”
His heart faltered as the smell and tang of winter filled his senses. The roars and echoes of bloodthirsty cries climbed through his mind, the promise of death lingering on his tongue.
“They are coming.”
The ancient essence that was locked around his heart stirred, images cutting through his mind. The forest crystallizing into a world of ice, his mother swiftly leading an army not seen by man before.
And the Academy, sitting, waiting, as the icy world raced toward them.
“Act now, Adair. Or die with them.”
His heart hammered against his ribcage, and Adair was certain it was going to break through his chest, shattering him. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck, tickling his skin that had flushed both hot and cold.
“Roque, darling, are you okay?” Nei’s voice was tentative, and as Adair turned, the darkness roared within him.
A slow smile splayed on his lips, and Nei backed away, her softness gone as she looked at him. The drums and laughter spun around them, the rest of the Academy oblivious to the shift of energy, her panic bleeding into her features. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he turned, locking eyes with the Prince of the Shattered Isles. Emory was walking toward him now, his sarcastic jabs lost to him as Adair mouthed one word to him, “Run.” Marquis’s skin paled.
The world shuddered beneath him, as Adair started screaming. Everyone paused, looking to their King who crouched down low on the ground, writhing in pain.
“Adair, you don’t have to do this. Please,” Roque’s voice cut through his mind, and he growled, clenching his teeth. “The Book of Old only has one motive, one reason for existing.”
The pain stopped abruptly, and Adair stood, shaking, and whispered to Roque, “To end you.”
The killing blow was crippling and unyielding, and Adair obliterated everything the acclaimed King of Kiero was. His bones turned to ash, his blood boiling and his nerve endings exploding until he dropped. And the magic that was slumbering within Adair shuddered through him with such a crippling force, it was like diving into the coolest water, wiping away any weariness, any pain, any confusion, any weakness. It filled his heart with purpose and his ability with strength and melded into everything he was.
And blackened his soul.
Adair ripped himself from Roque’s lifeless body in churning black smoke. Crossing the space, he hurtled toward Nei. She was flung back as Adair collided with her, his dark magic soaking into her veins, charring and burning. Blistering rage consumed Adair, as he felt her major organs shut down, the dark magic consuming her. In mere seconds, Nei Fae was dead.
Separating himself from her body, Adair was flying upward in the inky smoke.
The screams rose and fell, building with every second as Adair’s eyes flew open. In the cool darkness of the tunnel, he lurched forward, dry heaving. Looking down at his arms, his pale skin was streaked with blackened veins.
Vibrating, he clawed at his chest, ripping his shirt until he saw the monstrous burns exactly where his heart was, his skin raw and swollen. The world spun, and he reached for the familiar depth of his ability only to be met with a wall.
“Finally.”
The voices caressed and overlapped in his mind. They were the maestro, and now Adair was the instrument, bowing to their commanding hands. Heaving again, he emptied his stomach, as he was pulled down into the depths of his consciousness.
All the hope and beauty that the lustrous magic showed him before was gone. He felt himself collapse as their claws sunk themselves into his heart. Images flashed through his mind, cruel and sharp and unrelenting. Adair was sucked into the memory, and it charged through him.
Roque Fae looked around the room, raising a dark eyebrow to the two beautiful women seated to his left. “You’re sure the room is protected?”
The woman chuckled. “Roque, after all these years, you still doubt us?”
An uneasy tension rippled across the room, and sighing, Roque sat down, his features softening. “No. I don’t. Forgive me.”
The women shook their heads gently, and snapping their fingers, a white light seared down the doorframe. Making sure no one could get in or out. Nei gently clasped his hand underneath the table, squeezing it, and Roque continued, “What should we add today?”
The flickering eyes of the couple lingered on the two dark haired women at the end of the table. Their deep brown eyes were filled with an infinite void that also filled their world, which was foreign to Roque.
Roque chewed his cheek, looking to the man across from him. Damien Foster was the epitome of strength, from his dark hair to his rugged features. They had known each other for years, each meeting bringing quaking memories of pain with them.
Damien was rare, and that was saying a lot among their world. A man who could find and travel amongst worlds? A man who had woven together these meetings, bridging culture, strength, and magic and defying the laws so that they all could sit here. Roque looked at the glistening book in the middle of the table, filled with secrets and spells from each world. Each leader that consisted of the Original Six added to it each time they met, so the integrity of their cultu
res could be preserved.
It hadn’t been easy learning that there were other worlds connected to Kiero. Damien Foster had discovered the channels in using his abilities, like lifting a veil to show them the truth. Damien had bartered with his life and made sacrifices to get people to listen. To show them the opportunity of an alliance that was woven across time and space. One that Roque and Nei tucked close to their hearts, shielding from their country.
Roque unclasped his hand from Nei’s, and the fey from Daer cleared their throat and said, “It is our turn.”
Roque stated, “And what will you be addressing?”
For a moment, they didn’t say anything but tilted their heads slowly, an identical smile blossoming on their faces. Their whispers made the end of his hair stand on end. “Magic not heard of before by your worlds.”
Looking at the book, it drifted toward them, scraping against the table. Meeting their outstretched hands, the cover flew open, pages churning wildly under their touch. The others shifted uneasily.
The fey looked at each other, their lips splitting into sharpened grins. Soft green light flared from under their fingers, soft and alluring. For a moment, the scent of moss and warm spices filled the room. Strange and vivid, beneath their bony joints, images flared, materializing in the book, as their eerie voices whispered to the pages in a language foreign to them all. The sharp and guttural words wove, the notes hanging heavily around them, sharp as any sword and calming as still water.
The world within the pages was beautiful and cruel, and the world of Daer was shown to them, the only way they could understand. Of towering castles, born from rock and gems, hidden in forests so ancient Roque couldn’t fathom their timeline. The rivers ran black, the intricate flowers blooming to ash. Of a tale of a court that had once ruled within the kingdom, breathing life into magic, breathing hope and truth into its people.
Only to be destroyed.
The imagery flashed, turning cold. The emerald haze of the paradise vanishing in a pull of smoke, and the very lights within the room seemed to dim. Black roses ruled over the once majestic castle, and the crumbling brick showed the weathering of time. Where once beauty flourished, a harshness had fallen over the world and the fey that lived there.
Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1) Page 18
